


reminiscent & new

by haganenobeato



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, FMA Secret Santa 2018, Romance, The Nanny-variant AU, feely sex, i think, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 16:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenobeato/pseuds/haganenobeato
Summary: But she didn’t imagine this. This wasn’t a product of overthinking. It wasn’t even on her radar and now it’s been thrust into the forefront of her mind.The father of her charge, her boss, Roy Mustang, the boy who had learned under her father for several summers, had kissed her.





	reminiscent & new

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bergamots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bergamots/gifts).



A silence overtakes the living room area late in the evening. The lamp on the end table omits a dimly soft glow, giving the room a hazy look, and on the floor, toddler toys are strewn across the rug - abandoned by the their owner after being carried off to her crib. 

_ The child’s asleep _ , she tells herself. Riza Hawkeye sits rigidly on the corner seat of the sofa, hands firmly on her lap. She eyes the device next to her, blinking green, with a monitor screen showing her charge deep in slumber. This should have been the easiest part of her job, catch up on some reading, do some crossword puzzles. She might’ve even had time to watch a movie and fall asleep 30 minutes into it.

However, Riza knows it’s useless. Her mind is preoccupied, busy and buzzing with a replay of earlier that night. 

Staring off into the middle distance, she touches her bottom lip and pushes the thousandth playback out of her mind. She frowns at her own childishness, figuring it’s been too long since she properly interacted with adults. Spending most of her day with a toddler does things to people, she muses. 

But she didn’t imagine this. This wasn’t a product of overthinking. It wasn’t even on her radar and now it’s been thrust into the forefront of her mind. 

The father of her charge, her boss, Roy Mustang, the boy who had learned under her father for several summers, had kissed her. 

It was an most insignificant peck on the lips. A quick pucker. A brush of a kiss, flesh to flesh. A transaction committed on auto-pilot on his way out to a formal work party that evening. He had placed one on his daughter’s cheek and one on Riza’s lips. An interaction consisting of an awkward thirty seconds ensued where they both mumbled something that  _ could _ have been something like “oh how embarrassing. I’m sorry” and “no worries. Go go go.” After the door closed, the kid on her hip placed a pudgy hand on her own cheek and then pointed to Riza’s mouth, telling her she didn’t imagine this insignificant kiss from her father. 

What’s worse is that she now wondered what he thought of her, dredging up decade old sentiments of the past. 

For months now, she’d been stuck in this limbo of whether or not she was imagining things. Of when he’d stare at her and smile. Or touches in casual conversations giving her second guess. Innocent touches like a hand on the shoulder. Or hands briefly brushing each other, followed by the heaviest sensation in her head and the hollowing of her heart where she could hear the strange feeling in her ribcage go  _ thump thump thump. _

Riza breathes out in exasperation, hard enough that it rattles in her chest and she drops to the floor on her knees to collect the toys. She handles them with a harsher hand than usual with haste and starts chastising herself. 

This opportunity of being a live-in caretaker for his child appeared conveniently following the death of her father and her only remaining family. Add in the convenient timing of the separation from his wife and the unfortunate loss of his foster mother years ago created a cocktail of luck just for Riza. A job offer right there at the funeral. Room and board to take care of his kid. After taking care of her deteriorating father for years, the idea of caring for a growing child sounded like  _ fun  _ by comparison. So, she agreed.

There was learning curve to childcare versus eldercare, but she read books and she learned and he helped along the way. He was patient with her. And she had a growing love for his daughter. She was smart, vocal, funny, and a unique personality she couldn’t find in anyone out there. 

Distracted, the toys begin to fall from her arms. Unable to carry them, she reaches for the wicker basket. Riza stands. A sigh escapes as a hand runs through her hair. She mutters to herself. “I don’t want to throw that all away.” 

“Throw what away?” 

The words go through her like an electric shock, thrumming the surface of her skin with surprise. Riza jumps slightly and pivots on her feet, losing some toys to gravity in the process. Roy stands by the door, looking at her inquisitively, and turns the lock slowly until it clicks. The limited light casts shadows on his face. He’s always had a handsome face. By now she knows it’s not in the physical features of him, but rather the manner in which he carries himself. 

Her hands dives into the basket and pulls out the first toy, a plush bird. “These toys. They’re coming apart at the seams and she loves them I was thinking I’d learn to sew in order to mend them back.” 

“Let me see,” Roy says, hanging up his coat. He walks over to where she’s standing in the middle of the den. Close enough to smell the small spritz of cologne on him. She hands him the toy. Their hands touch from the exchange and she pushes back the awareness, refusing to commit herself to a teenager again. She studies the rest of the toys and realizes maybe her excuse would offer up a good distraction. 

“It’s a good thing you didn’t.

She looks up. “Hmm?” 

He regards them for a moment it's in his hands, feeling the soft fabric of the toy. “My mother made this for her,” he says and a ghost of a smile appears on his lips.

Riza stills. In her frenzy, that tidbit of information had slipped out of her mind. She clutches the handles of the basket closer, shifting from one foot to the other as he has his moment reminiscing of his late foster mother. “They never truly leave us,” she offers weakly. 

Roy clears his throat and drops the toy back in the basket. He looks at her, trying to play off the misting eyes. She ignores it. “Is she down?” Roy asks. 

“She went to sleep about an hour ago.” Riza places down the basket. “With a grilled cheese and bath later.” She sees him nodding and turning his shoulder away. Something uncontrollable, something needing an answer spurs her to ask “Are you hungry? Would you like one?” 

Roy stops pulling the loose from tie and looks at her like something is on his mind. The pause thickens the space between them before he declines. 

Riza breathes, wanting to escape the atmosphere she inadvertently helped create. 

But perhaps he doesn’t. He wants to address what’s been on her mind all night. Roy takes a seat on the arm of the couch, foot over his knee. “I wanted to apologize for earlier today. That whole thing before I left.” He gestures to the spot near the door. “It’s completely out of line.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. ” She waves her hand nonchalantly, but her heart is at her throat. “I’m sure it happens all the time.” 

“No,” he says sternly, crossing his arms. “It doesn’t. And I don’t want you to think that I will-”

“That you’ll take advantage of me? Sir, please. You’ve done better in the past.” 

At the moment, she wishes she could eat those words, unsay them. Have him unhear them, so it wouldn’t be obvious that she was making comparisons.  He’s looking at her with his mouth slightly parted. Seconds have probably gone by, and yet they feel like hours. Riza has dug herself in a hole. he clears her throat, but doesn’t dislodge what is stuck at the back of it, as if it would do away with the heat on her cheeks and thanks the poor lighting currently in the room.

Opting for a hasty retreat, she points down the hall past him and says, “If there’s nothing else, I can retreat.” With his silence, Riza heads towards her room. 

Something latches on to the crook of her arm and spins her. His hands frame her face and she’s kissed with more meaning than just a chaste kiss goodbye. It’s the kiss that reminds her a time when things were less complicated, of years ago. It’s a kiss that travels through time. 

Roy lets go of her and she blinks her eyes open with his face still within close proximity. 

There’s a heat in between her legs that begs to be tended to, a built up feeling in her lower abdomen that’s been a detriment since she’s set foot here. She needs to quell, throw water over it. Dip herself in cold water if need be, but she needs some self-restraint. She looks at him, worried. “Think about what you’re doing,” she warns - in part to him, in part to herself. 

“Trust me, I have,” he murmurs back. 

She tries again, weaker this time. “Maybe it’s the convenience, the closeness of having me around.” 

“No, that’s not it.” His breath tickles her lips. “Anything else?” 

“Then it’s-” she swallows, and looks to eyes from his lips. “Then it’s because you want me.” 

“Only if you want me too.” 

As confirmation, their lips are on each other in an instant, emphasized with a touch a fervor, desire, and the mutual need to comfort broken souls.

His fingers angles her face towards him. She feels the edge of the accent table cutting into her palms from being hard-pressed against it from this kiss. His hands, angling her face towards him, move from their spot alongside her jaw and touch her over the fabric of her blouse until he reaches the small of her back. He tugs her forward, eliciting a thrilled gasp from her. 

With this, she can taste him quite well: the flavor on his lips, the sweetness on his tongue, and the hot breath of knowing he wants her. She feels him there, just below the buckle of his belt. Had it been any other person, any other apprentice from her childhood, she would’ve run. Far, far away and it wouldn’t have mattered how close she got to the child. But there was a connection with Roy specifically that she felt pulling her closer to him. So instead, she throws caution to the wind: her hand releases his shirt and touches him over his dress pants. The groan rumbling from his throat does her no favors, stirs her; Riza would like more of it. 

Roy pulls her away from the accent table in the direction of his bedroom. At the last moment, he grabs the baby monitor from it as they make the lustful journey towards the master bedroom with hands all over each other. They burst through the doorway after fumbling with the door knob and pause for a second to glance no disturbed toddlers stirred from the monitor. Once they are in the clear, it’s set clumsily atop the dresser and it bumps into some picture frames and cologne bottles. 

Clothes are hastily set aside and the feelings his bare fingers on her skin gives her shivers. Goosebumps raise across her body and makes her bite his lower lip. A growl emerges from the depths of his chest in response and the next thing she knows, she’s lying on his bed. 

His touches are as gentle as she remembers. The only exception being that his fingers are more guided, with more confidence than adolescent fumblings. They both become drunk in the nostalgia of being with each other once again, without the fear being caught. 

A crinkle of a condom wrapper, a toss and a roll, which she feels emboldened to do for him. Something about the moonlight casting an outline around him, made her want to savor that look even more. 

Roy smirks as she lies back and he follows suit into her. She welcomes him between her legs and he’s primed at the entry, but he makes one last tease to lubricate himself in between her lips. Riza hums from the pleasant and slow movement against her; tip and shaft stimulating an already swollen bud. Until he doesn’t. She feels him there, at the entrance of her ripe sex, and her hips wiggle encouragingly. He hovers over her, arms like pillars at either side of her head.

And then, they meld into one. 

Her back arches, exhales, and she grasps at the sheets beneath her while the rest of her feels the contours of his body. Reminiscent and new all at once. 

With each thrust the space between their bodies lessen until they are flush against each other. She braces against him, one arm hugging him tight and another in his hair as he fills her so; thus breaking the vows she made to herself at the start of this ordeal in completion. Each inhale of cold air does nothing for her fevered body. Both their bodies, Working in tandem to creak the bed and pleasing each other. Her nails dig into his back, tufts of dark hair slip through the crack of her fingers. 

To think she’d have the emotional willpower to stop this in its tracks. She was a fool and if he had once thought the same, then they were in a bed of fools, entangling foolish limbs in the sheets. 

Somehow it feels foolishly sweet. 

 


End file.
